Is There Such Thing as a Happily Ever After?
by xxDeadly- - -Melodyxx
Summary: Reese turned to take on the other attacker, but found the man unconscious on the ground, a disgruntled princess holding pieces to a shattered vase. He quirked a brow at her. She shrugged.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** So I have finally mustered up the courage to actually type up one of the stories I have written and post it on Fanficton. I want to thank my sister (Glorytommy) for helping me edit and threatening me, I mean encouraging me, to put up this story. I hope you guys like it~

Oh! And I DO NOT own Person of Interest.

**Chapter One**

It was a rather warm day in the kingdom of New York. The smell of fresh produce and the sound lively banter danced within the hustle and bustle of one of the largest markets in all the land. While venders tried to persuade walking patrons to buy their merchandise, the patrons themselves made it their mission to haggle the best deal they could, and all the while the laughter of children rang in the mix as they weaved through the throng of people. Everything busy, everything filled with life.

The kingdom was doing quite well, much better than it had seventeen years ago during the war. Those tragic moments had set a state of panic within the people. Families were worried, wondering if they'd ever see their loved ones again. Many lost their lives and those they left behind were broken. Now, those wounds were healing, and though there would be scars, people were starting a new.

Princess Jocelyn loved to watch the view she had of the kingdom from the balcony of her bedroom. There, she could see everything, and anything she couldn't see she could imagine. Sometimes she wished to witness it firsthand. Whether it be the smell of freshly baked bread when the bakery first opens for the day, or the sound of steel against steel as the blacksmith works on his latest project. However she wasn't able to do that. She knew that wouldn't be something she could do. As a princess the castle was both her protection and her prison. There were many times when she felt trapped behind its walls, like she needed to get away.

The loud chime of a carefully crafted grandfather clock brought Jocelyn from her musings and she turned toward it to check the time. One o'clock was what it read, and she instantly noticed it as the time she was to visit the orphanage. It was something she did every day, unless other duties got in the way, and, though it was something her mother had originally asked her to do, it was one of the highlights of her day.

She usually wasn't expected there until two, but knowing it was best to leave the castle early because of how far the trip took, she turned from her balcony and headed inside her room to stare into a full length mirror. An ebony skinned woman stared back at her, downed in a powder blue coat that flared out at the bottom, its front was short and came down to her mid-thigh while the back reached longer, touching behind knees. To top the outfit off, tight fitting pants and knee high black boots hugged her legs.

Turning around, she faced her lady-in-waiting, who sat quietly at a table working on one of her latest crafts. "How do I look, Grace?" she questioned.

The red head smiled, "You're an absolute vision your highness."

Jocelyn chuckled "You're too kind, and much too formal. I told you not to call me that. We've known each other ever since we were children, you're practically my sister."

Grace sighed, failing to suppress a smile as she rose from her seat and lead the princess to her vanity, "I am well aware of how long I've know you; it is just a force of habit," she assured. "Now sit down and stay still."

With nimble fingers the servant released the braid that held Jocelyn's hair and let it fall in waves around the woman's shoulders. Running a brush carefully through it, she gathered the hair into a high ponytail. When she was finished, the princess smiled in approval.

"Thank you, Grace," Jocelyn said sincerely as she glanced at the grandfather clock for a second time. "I better get going or my mother will scold me for being tardy and I wouldn't ever hear the end of it."

With one last look at her mirror, the princess hurried out of her room at a pace that neared too close to an unladylike run. Halfway down the hall she heard Grace calling out to her: "Make sure you are home before tonight's celebration! You're parent's won't be too happy if you are late!"

"Don't worry, I will!" Jocelyn called back over her shoulder.

Descending the inner steps of her family's castle, she soon made it to the large double doors where her two most trusted knights were waiting for her. Putting on her most professional face, she slowed her pace and gave them both a curt nod, "Good afternoon, Sir Fusco, Sir Szymanski."

"Good afternoon," they both said in unison, the taller one with dark brown hair bowed in respect, while the shorter much more stout knight stood grumpily in place. Even though they were clad in matching uniforms the two couldn't be more different.

Szymanski opened the large door for her and she thanked him kindly before heading down another flight of stairs that lead out to the courtyard, her knights trailing behind. There waited their horses, already prepared for their departure.

Jocelyn was helped onto a white mare named Scarlet, a gift from her mother when she was much younger. As unconventional as it was for a princess to ride to town on horse and not in carriage, she had managed to somehow convince her parents to allow it. It wasn't like she was a conventional princess to begin with.

Once they were all mounted and ready, she and her knightly escorts trotted their way out of the courtyard, moving at a steady pace toward their destination.

xXx

Bright sunlight barely reached the forest floor through the thick canopy of trees, but even so the black cloak of a hooded figure was all too visible for his liking. That was the thing about dark colors. They only blended in at night.

Musing on this fact, the man looked down at the silver hand mirror in his grasp. Its glass began to glow and ripple, an image taking form. The face of a neutral looking man soon stared back at the mirror's handler, a pair of dark spectacles resting on his nose.

"What is it this time, Finch?" the man in the black cloak asked, all business.

"It seems like our latest mark has been identified," the man identified as Finch stated, his flat tone showing the slightest hint of interest in the subject, "she appears to be none other than her highness, the princess."

The mirror's handler arched a brow, "…the princess?" he repeated, "This should be interesting."

"Indeed, but I advise you to be careful, you haven't made very nice with the guards of the royal palace… I wouldn't be surprised if a few of them had it out for you personally," he warned. "And Mr. Reese, do keep a close eye on her."

With that Finch's face disappeared, leaving Reese to stare at his own reflection.

Mounting a black stallion, he kept his attention on his mirror. "Show me the princess," he commanded and the glass complied, rippling to the image of a dark-skinned royal having a conversation with two knights as they rode by horseback.

Scanning the princess' surroundings, Reese immediately recognized her route of travel and tucking the mirror away into the pouch at his belt, he adjusted the hood on his head. With a click of the tongue to direct his stead, he rode through the forest, toward his new mark.

xXx

"Tinkerbell, what's this Grace tells me about a gift for the queen?" Fusco questioned, striking up a conversation to pass the time.

Jocelyn's mouth twitched slightly at the nickname. It was one he'd given her as a little girl when she used to pretend she was a fairy, and though it was a fond memory she was much older now and as a princess it was very embarrassing to be called such a thing. There wasn't much she could do about it, however, as Fusco gave nicknames to all his favorite people—which weren't many.

"Yes, rather than have something picked up, she helped me make something. Grace is very talented you know," she stated matter-of-factly. Jocelyn had wanted to know what to get her mother for the longest time, but it was hard to decide something like that when as queen the woman could basically have anything she wanted. What are you supposed to get a woman like that? It had been Grace's idea to hand make something, saying that the best gifts are the ones made from the heart.

"Well, I'm sure she will like whatever you give her," Szymanski said with a smile.

"Are you sure you don't want to get something from the market? I'm sure it'll look more professional," Fusco teased.

"I assure you it'll look much better than anything you could find there," Jocelyn said confidently. A silence then passed them for a moment until Jocelyn spoke once again: "Sir Fusco, whenever you have the time I would like to challenge you to a game of archery," She challenged with a slight smirk.

The stout knight chuckled, amused at this, "So the student finally thinks she can beat the teacher?"

"She is a sharp shot, Fusco. She might win this time. " Szymanski inquired.

"Of course she is, she learned from the best," the other knight snorted, "but just because she's good, doesn't mean she's good enough."

This comment set of a deep discussion between the two knights, and during the rest of the trip their banter went back and forth. Jocelyn could only shake her head at their nonsense.

Eventually, they were able to make it to the orphanage in record time and were greeted almost instantly by the nuns who took care of the children. Usual to the routine, Jocelyn was guided inside where she was swarmed by the twenty boys and girls who lived there.

The first part of her visit consisted in answering the varied questions of the children, which ranged from how her day was so far to what the party at the palace would be like that night. The princess was content in answering all their questions.

For the second portion, she seated herself in an old wooden chair and read them the tale of _The Little Glass Slipper_. It was one of her favorites as a child.

As she finished the story, a little girl with blonde hair who went by the name of Emily raised her hand.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Jocelyn called on her, offering a gentle smile.

"Do you have a prince charming?"

The princess' expression faltered at this, "I… use to."

The young one grew concerned at this, "What happened? Did the evil people take him away?"

"Something like that."

Emily smiled warmly at Jocelyn, "Don't worry princess, you'll find him someday."

The woman reframed from voicing how it was impossible and instead exhaled. "Maybe," she stated lowly, almost a whisper.

A few more questions were asked by the children before it was time for her to leave. She exited the orphanage with promises of coming to see them again the next day.

xXx

Reese stood in the shadows; a safe distance away as he watched men and woman dressed in their best clothing enter the castle, a line of carriages filing in like an assembly line. Having seen the castle many times before the grandeur of it all didn't interest him. It still stood as tall as the last time he'd seen it up close, towering over the kingdom as a sign of wealth and power.

It wasn't very impressive.

Turning away from the scene, the man brought his attention down to his silver hand mirror where a busy Finch could be seen mixing together several ingredients into a wooden bowl, when he crushed into a fine powder.

"Is that stuff ready yet?"

"This is not simply just 'stuff'—as you so blatantly call it, Mr. Reese. It's a delicate process, that if done wrong, could end up making you look more like a toad than like a noble," Finch explained, perhaps with slight amusement at the idea. "In any case," he continued, picking up the bowl and cupping it in both hands, "take care to remember that this is only temporary. Whatever you are planning to do, it must be done before the clock strikes twelve."

With that warning, the man in the mirror blew into the bowl, the dust-like substance passing through the glass and straight into Reese's face. Purple clouded the man's vision and the dust moved in an unnatural cloud, turning almost smoke-like as it covered him from head to toe.

As the smoke cleared, he was now dressed to look like that of a noble man.

"Twelve o'clock, Mr. Reese," the voice from the mirror reminded him.

"I got it, Finch," he stated, placing the mirror back in his pouch before walking casually toward the castle, pretending to have gotten out of a carriage with a bunch of young, lively nobles, who barely registered his presence.

xXx

Jocelyn held her breath as the strings of her bodice were pulled just a little too tight. "There all done," Grace announced, stepping back to look at the princess, something close to a proud mother's smile crossing her features.

Glancing into her full length mirror, Jocelyn took a look at the servant's handiwork. Grace had picked out a blood red dress with black embroidery trailing along the top of the bodice and her hair was pulled up into a tight bun, a tiara graced her head and a red and black necklace pulled the ensemble together.

"Are you ready for tonight, Joss?"

The princess sighed, "No, not really."

Grace seemed to know what was wrong and took a hold of Jocelyn's hand, sitting her down on the bench at the foot of the bed. "I know how you feel about Sir Gracious," the servant started, rubbing the woman's hand comfortingly, "but, in all honesty, he hasn't done anything wrong. Just give him a chance."

"More like Sir Ungracious, if you ask me," she scoffed, "and he is not a Sir yet. Not until he is knighted," the princess expressed and, leaving Grace's grasp, she stood and paced the room. "He may seem kind and courteous, but it's all an act." She grimaced. "I don't care if he's the son of a nobleman, I will not fall for it!"

Jocelyn wouldn't be swayed by her servant's words. Grace didn't know what she knew about Sir Gracious. She'd seen what he was really like and there was just so much more about him that just didn't seem right. He didn't deserve to be knighted. He didn't deserve anything.

"Alright, I won't convince you otherwise," Grace exhaled, "just remember to be civil—for your parent's sake," the servant reminded her and stood up to pat the princess on the cheek. "Now go, if you stay any longer ranting you'll be late."

xXx

It took Gracious seven years to get to this point where he would finally make a formal entry into knighthood. Ten hours earlier he had spent his time in the castles chapel altar kneeling in silent prayer. When that was over the royal family and other guests joined him at the altar were King Damien took possession of the sword and shield which had been blessed by the priest.

Gracious knelt before his king and swore an oath of allegiance and to follow the strict code of chivalry. The king presented the sword and shield and 'Dubbed' the squire who was finally pronounced a Knight.

After the ceremony, Jocelyn was escorted down to the Great Hall, where the feat would take place. The room itself lived up to its name. Tapestries, shields, and banners displaying coats of arms decorated the walls and a massive glass chandelier hung, catching every light in the room.

At the end of the hall was the Dais, a raised platform for the high table where the king, his family, and the highest ranking nobles sat. The other two tables were on the floor in view of the high table, everyone else sat there.

The King and Queen sat in the center of the high table, where they had perfect view of the whole room. To the king's left sat Sir Gracious, who the royal was very fond of.

Next to Sir Gracious was seated Jocelyn sat and she found herself sour over the arrangement, having much rather preferred to be at her mother's side. The night would have certainly been more enjoyable if she hadn't been made to sit next to the very man she despised at the moment. It didn't help that her other neighbor at the table was a nobleman she had never met before, but she was a bit glad he wasn't much of a talker. She had already labeled most of his kind as rather rude and Sir Gracious didn't really help her opinion of them.

"Good evening Princess, are you enjoying yourself?" came a voice from her right and she was displeased to realize it was the one man she'd rather not hold a conversation with.

"I have to admit, not as much as I would like," she told him, refraining from turning to look at him as she used a fork to move peas around on her plate. He may have had a smile plastered on his face, but his eye told a different story and she always felt uneasy looking into them.

"What a shame," he said in a way that hinted to mock disappointment, "Were you not pleased with my knighting?"

Biting her tongue, Jocelyn glanced over at her father and was happy to see he was engaged in a conversation with her mother to hear their conversation. Allowing herself to genuinely frown, she willed herself to look the newly knighted man in the eye, "To be honest, _Sir_ Gracious," she started in a harsh whisper, "we both know what I feel about your knighting."

The man merely chuckled and leaning in he placed his lips to her ear, "Be careful of what you say, my dear. It's not like you can prove anything, it would be best to give up. Things could get dangerous for you otherwise."

Jocelyn leaned away and glared, "Don't underestimate me. I will expose you for what you are. A fraud and a liar."

There was only one person at the table who had heard all of the conversation between the man of the hour and the princess. Reese, who had sat next to the princess the entire time, noticed the threat in the knight's voice and when Sir Gracious excused him for a moment to head off somewhere, the disguised man didn't hesitate to follow.

The knight walked with purpose to an emptied corridor where he stopped. Reese hid behind a pillar and watched as the man checked his surroundings, making sure he wasn't followed.

When he thought he was alone, Sir Gracious motioned to someone around the corner and two brown cloaked men came forward. The knight crossed his arms. "It looks like I'll need your services after all," he commented with a bit of distaste and waved his hand carelessly, "Kill her. I don't want her getting in the way of my future plans."

"No problem… but there is the question of payment," one of the slurred, a sadistic smile crossing his features.

Sir Gracious' eyes narrowed, "You'll be paid when the job is done. Screw up and you get nothing."

The two men nodded in understanding and left.

The knight watched them go and let out a tired sigh, "You should have just heeded my warnings… princess," he muttered and, fixing his attire, headed back to his party.

Reese frowned, watching as the knight trotted out of sight. When he was sure Gracious was gone, he pulled out his mirror to contact Finch. "Apparently, Gracious hired two mercenaries to take out the princess."

"That doesn't seem like a very bright idea. Why try to assassinate the princess with so many people around?"

"These men are trained to kill in any situation. It's what they do for a living," he explained, "My guess is that Gracious wants an audience. Besides, this way he can make sure the job is done right."

Finch shifted uncomfortably, "Well, you must hurry, Mr. Reese. You don't have much time left."

Putting the mirror back into its pouch, he re-entered the great hall. With trained eyes he scanned the crowd. The tables had been pulled apart and the guests where now engaged in dancing with one another and the constantly moving crowd made it a bit difficult to make anyone out.

It took a moment, but he spotted the princess leaning out of an opened window.

With his mark in sight, he took inventory of all the guards in the room. Surely the mercenaries wouldn't be stupid enough to attack her with so many around.

Unless…

He brought his attention to the roof and found the hit men standing atop of the wooden beams, hiding in the shadows as they aimed their bows directly toward the princess.

With stealth-like grace, Reese maneuvered his way through the crowd of dancers toward the princess. Sliding his hand into her own, he guided her out of the line of fire as the first arrow whizzed past her head and through the open window, going unnoticed by everyone in the room.

"Dance with me," he ordered, slipping his other hand respectfully around her waist and leading her toward the dance floor. It wasn't the time to play the gentleman and properly ask for her hand.

"How dare you?" the princess questioned, struggling against his hold on her, "You can't just grab me as you please. I demand you to unhand me."

Reese ignored her and continued to lead her through the crowd in a smooth dance, determined to keep her as a moving target. The mercenaries couldn't shoot her if she kept moving.

"Listen princess," he spoke finally, eyes still trained on her attackers, "you're in danger. I need you to stay calm and do as I say."

Jocelyn's outrage faltered at this, "In danger…? In danger of what, exactly?"

"I'm sure you're familiar with Sir Gracious," Reese explained, pausing to spin her, "it seems that he wants you dead and he's hired people to make sure that happens."

The princess didn't look surprised at who was behind it, and closing her eyes she exhaled, "Of course he would…" When she opened them again, it was to give him a skeptical glance, "How do you know all this? And what do you plan to do about it?"

"What I plan to do," he told her, ignoring the first question, "is get you out of danger, Princess."

With that he led her out of the Great Hall, and discreetly outside of the castle. There they were greeted by the two mercenaries, with swords drawn. They seemed to know he was on to them.

Before anyone had the chance to move, Reese let go of Jocelyn's hand and kicked one of the men right in the chest, stealing his sword in the process.

His partner charged at the disguised noble man and thrust his sword in his direction. Reese dodged it with ease, knocking the man off balance. He took the opportunity to send his borrowed sword straight into the side. Not even flinching as the mercenary stumbled and collapsed in his own blood.

Reese turned to take on the other attacker, but found the man unconscious on the ground, a disgruntled princess holding pieces to a shattered vase.

He quirked a brow at her.

She shrugged.

Opening his mouth to speak, Reese was interrupted by the sound of bells. His attention was soon pulled to the clock tower, the time reading midnight. "I have to go," he told her and began running down the castle steps.

"Wait!" Jocelyn ran after him, reaching for his hand but caught only his glove, it slipped off as he continued to run. "I don't even know your name!" she called after him, sighing deeply when he disappeared into the night.

"Princess!" the voice of Szymanski rang as he rushed out of the castle's entrance, "Princess are you alright, you disappeared and—" the knight paused midsentence as his eyes landed on the two men lying on the ground, one bloody and the other unconscious. "What… What happened?"

"It's kind of a long story," She said still looking out into the distance.

Who was that man?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

John casually weaved his way through the crowded streets of the market place, stopping every now and then to stare with feigned interest at a merchant's pricey merchandise. It was only in his peripheral vision that he kept his attention on his real target: a fragile, sickly looking man touring the stands with a healthier, homely looking woman and an energetic child.

His name was Humphraus Darcy, John's next mark.

So far the man had been acting very suspiciously. It was obvious he was nervous about something, constantly looking over his shoulder a number of times as if he was expecting something to happen. The littlest things seemed to make him jump, and John was starting to have a good guess as to why.

"Papa, look! Can I have?" the little boy traveling with Humphraus questioned, tugging on his father's sleeve as he pointed to a wooden toy knight that sat on display. He was the spitting image of his father; except for the green eyes that he inherited from his mother.

"Maybe some other time, Amalric," the sickly man promised wearily, a hand going to pat the boy's head.

"Okay, Papa…" he drawled, voice laced with inevitable disappointment.

Something flashed in Humphraus' eyes as he looked from his boy to the wooden toy. It was obvious to see that he didn't like denying the boy such a simple gift, and John watched discreetly as the man looked through his empty pockets, the last of his money having been spent on the ingredients for that night's supper. He had a look on his face that said he didn't know the next time he had money would be, and that he'd been in this situation for a while.

As if sensing the sickly man's worries, the woman with him intertwined her hand with his, giving him a warm smile.

"Are you alright? You seem a bit distracted today."

"I'm fine, Calla. I'm just thinking," he assured her, giving her a weak smile as he gave her hand a light squeeze.

Calla sighed, but kept smiling, green eyes staring at him knowingly, "Darling, you know you can talk to me about anything. What is it?"

Humphraus tried to brush her concern off with a chuckle. "Really, it's nothing."

The woman seemed like she didn't believe him, but didn't push him further. "Alright, well I think I've got everything. Once we get back home I'll start supper."

xXx

In a small cabin, away from the rest of the kingdom, Humphraus watched his wife work on making supper. From his spot at the poorly built wooden table he'd crafted by hand, he could hear her soft humming and it lulled him, temporarily relieving him of his worries. But only for a moment because his mind always came back to the problem at hand, what he had done, the consequences that would come because of it. His hands trembled at the thought.

Once upon a time, he'd been a healthy man with enough money to be able to feed his family well. He'd never been rich, but at least he would have been able to buy his son something as simple as a wooden knight. That was the high of his life. He'd worked hard and made good money, but he'd fallen since then. He wasn't needed anymore and was laid off. It broke his world.

And he still hasn't been able to put those pieces back together again.

This cabin, in which they lived in now, could barely hold the three of them, and he often found himself having to feign not being hungry so that his wife and child could have more in their bellies. He worked odd jobs now, whatever he could get, and he was never sure when he'd have enough money for a good meal… He'd rather die than see his family starve.

"The food is almost done, just a few more minutes," Calla promised from her position knelt before the fireplace, a pan in her hand as she resumed her humming.

Humphraus' lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at the sun through the cabin window. It was about time.

"I'm going for a walk, I'll be back shortly," he explained as casually as his anxiety would let him, standing from his seat to walk over and give his wife a peck on the lips before heading out of the door.

He knew she would wonder where he was going, she always did, but hopefully it wasn't too strange anymore as often as he did this now. He also hoped she didn't know how awfully untruthful he was being lately. He just didn't want her to worry.

With caution, Humphraus walked briskly away from his home in the usual direction he normally took. When the cabin was no longer in sight, he bumped into something hard and stumbled backward. Nervously, he looked up and met the gaze of two tall figures standing before him. He recognized them instantly.

"H-Hello… gentleman, lovely evening isn't it?" he greeted with a stutter, taking a step back.

"Where's our money, Dumpty?" the more muscular of the men grunted, cutting to the chase.

Humphraus felt chills run down his spine. "I… If I just had more time then—"

He was cut off by the other, slightly shorter, man, who grabbed him by the collar. "Look here you poor excuse for a man. You said you would have the money tonight so hand it over or you might not like what we do next."

The sickly man felt himself tremble at his words. He knew what they meant, but he truly didn't have the money. When he'd borrowed from these people he had been desperate. The money had helped them survive for a while… but now they wanted him to pay them back, which was impossible. It was stupid of him, he knew, but he wouldn't have done anything differently. His only regret was that now they were going to kill him and that meant Calla and Amalric would be left alone.

He didn't want that to happen… and at the moment he did the only thing he could think of to prolong his execution: he stomped on the man's foot.

With a hiss the debt collector's grip loosened and Humphraus took off running, going deeper into the forest. Adrenaline filled his weak body and he kept moving despite the sore pain in his legs, one of the disadvantages of having a weak and withering body. He had never run so fast in his life, but he knew that if they caught him, he was as good as dead, and he couldn't die—not when his family needed him.

He was tiring quickly, he could feel it, but he couldn't stop now—he had to get away. Glancing back, he could see the two men gaining on him. They were too close for his liking and so gridding his teeth, he pushed himself harder, ignoring his labored breathing.

It wasn't long before he found himself slowing. He gasped so much that he could barely breathe, and his lungs were on fire. But he didn't stop, and cutting through the trees he found himself at a loss when he came up to a clearing, a stone wall blocking his path.

His heart sank. What could he do now? Whatever it was, he need to do it fast. He could hear his pursuers approaching and he couldn't let them get him.

Resting a hand on his beating heart, Humphraus quickly scanned his surroundings and found a stack on empty crates against the wall. He realized then that he would have to climb the wall. It would be difficult in his weakened state, but it was the only way.

With difficultly, he climbed the crates with terrible balance. The stack was high enough from him to wrap his hands around the top of the wall, but he had to pull himself up the rest of the way, which proved to be difficult.

The moment his foot left the top of a crate, the whole pile crashed to the ground, and the sickly man flinched at the sound. Sitting on top of the wall, he glanced down and took in just how high the wall looked from his new perspective. He felt his body freeze at the realization, but he did his best to ignore it as he began to lower himself down the other side of the wall.

When he paused, preparing himself to let go, a hand grabbed his leg and pulled on him. Humphraus' fingers slipped and he fell, landing on his back. His body arched, a pain shooting through him, but he didn't have much time to register how bad the fall had been, because a cloaked man pulled him off the ground by his arm and moved him quickly away from the wall.

"Aha," the sickly man hissed, the quick motion sending around string of pain through his system.

"You'll be fine," the cloaked figure stated simply, continuing to lead him away.

Humphraus gave the man a cautious glance. "Who are you? Where are we going? You're not with them are you?" he questioned, the run taking too much out of him to attempt to struggle.

The mysterious male pulled him behind a large tree, out of sight, and motioned for him to be quiet.

A minute later, they watched as the pursuers ran right passed them. When it was deemed safe, they came out of hiding.

"Okay…" Humphraus started, sighing in relief, "I would really like for you to answer my questions now."

"No, I'm not one of them. I believe that's obvious," the man explained, "As for what I'm doing: I'm saving your life."

"Oh," he muttered dumbly, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. The question 'why' played upon his lips, but it didn't seem like he should ask it and so he settled for: "Do you have a name?"

"John."

"Well, thank you… John. I really appreciate this." He gave an awkward smile. "I'm Humpraus Darcy, but people just call me Dumpty. It's a bit odd, I know."

"Don't thank me yet," John stated and then leaning forward he spoke with more urgency, "I need you to tell me why those men were following you."

Humphraus hesitated at this. It was something he hadn't even told his wife about. Was it ok to trust this person? "I… I borrowed money from them a few months ago. My family needed it. We were struggling and I was afraid they would starve," he explained and taking a deep breath, he continued, "It was stupid of me, I know, but I couldn't let them go through something like that. My wife and child are the only people I have left."

For a moment, silence fell between them as the information was soaked in. And then John turned to leave, "Go back to your family."

The sickly man gave him a concerned glance, "…What are you planning to do?"

"My Job," he stated and headed down the direction the pursuers had taken.

xXx

Jocelyn sat on a stone bench taking in the look of the large castle garden in the afternoon sun. Absently, she passed the silk white glove back and forth between her hands. It was _his_ glove, whoever he was. Since the night he saved her life, she'd thought a lot about him. Those eyes of his, so blue and so full of wisdom past his years, she felt as if she'd seen them before, but couldn't quite remember.

She was curious about him, and wanted to know more. It couldn't have been coincidence that he showed up exactly when he was needed. She hadn't even known she was in danger. How'd he do it?

This train of thought brought her to the problem of the fraud of a knight, Mathew Gracious. She needed to find out a way to prove his wrong doing, catch him in the act, and get her mother and father to see what inhuman things he has gotten himself into.

Jocelyn sighed in frustration. It would be difficult to do this by herself. She needed help.

""—ocelyn… Jocelyn… Joss!"

The sound of Grace's voice interrupted her musing and she blinked, focusing her attention on the red head standing before her. "When did you get here?"

"Not too long ago," she huffed, straightening her apron, "I've called your name five times already." Her expression when from a bit peeved to concerned, "Are you alright? Do you have a fever?" Taking a seat next to the princess, she placed the back of her hand on Jocelyn's forehead to check.

Removing Grace's hand, she sighed. "I appreciate the concern, but I'm not sick," she assured.

"That's good to know," she hummed pausing for a moment as she noticed the white article of clothing in Jocelyn's hand. "What's that?"

"This…?" The princes cleared her throat and tucked the glove away. "It's nothing. Just something I found. It might be one of the guards'," she explained skillfully, and perhaps if it was anyone but grace they would have believed her.

"Mhm," the servant nodded unconvinced, "Well, whenever you're ready to tell me the truth, I'll be listening."

Jocelyn chuckled, "I almost forgot who I was talking to. Grace, the human lie detector. How do you do it?"

"Who knows?" she replied playfully, giving the princess a pointed look. "Now, who's the lucky gentleman?"

"Lucky gentleman?" Jocelyn scrunched her nose. "Oh no, it's not like that. It only slipped off his hand. He was in too much of a rush to go back for it."

"So you admit that there was a man involved?"

"…Well, yeah, but not in the way that you think. I don't even know who he is." She sighed. "Really, it's hard to explain. I'm still trying to figure it out myself."

Grace looked at her, long and hard, before nodding her head in understanding. "Okay, I believe you. You can always tell me about it later. Right now your parents have requested that you join them for dinner. Let's not keep them waiting any longer."

Nodding, Jocelyn stood up and started to walk toward the castle, Grace following her lead. "I didn't even know it was getting so late…"

The lady-in-waiting smiled, "That is because you are always getting lost in your own thoughts."

xXx

The next morning, a small crowd of villagers started to surround an old oak tree right outside the marketplace. All wore expressions of curiosity and astonishment as they whispered wonderings of what had happened and who could have possibly done it.

"Alright, out of the way, what's all the commotion about?"

Three royal guards pushed their way through the crowd, only to share a similar expression to the faces of the people around them as they beheld what awaited them.

Two criminals hung, tied together with rope, their mouths gagged with a piece of cloth, and their wanted posters pinned to their shirts.

"Who do you think did this…" one of the guards questioned, staring up at the scene in disbelief.

"I don't know," the other answered, shaking his head slowly.

From afar, the mystery vigilante watched the guards cut down the wanted criminals and take them away. _Another task complete_. Now he could focus on the Gracious problem. Glancing down at the white silk in his hand he ran a thumb over it in thought. He'd only managed to delay the knight's attack against the princess, she was still in danger.

"_Where is your other glove, Mr. Reese?" Finch questioned, casting a pointed glance at John's bare hand as the man walked into the library._

_But in ways it was more than just a library. The room had shelves, and shelves aligning the walls and filling the floor like a maze. In the center of the room were two tables. One with a large mirror resting upon it, while the other had a few book and instruments, often used to make spells. It the middle of the tables sat a chair, in which Finch occupied._

_John paused a moment to look down at his hands, as if having not noticed. "The princess took it," he stated simply and stared with slight curiosity at his gloved hand. "Why hasn't it changed back?"_

"_Because, Mr. Reese, gloves come in pairs," Finch explained, and then directed his attention to the spell book in front of him. "By the way, I think I may have found a solution of the princess' problem."_

Turning away from the dispersing crowd, John put the white glove into his pouch. There was still one more thing that he had to do before proceeding with his next task.

xXx

A sharp knock at the door caught the family's attention and Humphraus quickly got up to answer it. However, when he opened it, he could hardly believe what greeted him.

"Mama, look!" Amalric called out as he pecked through the door behind his father.

"What is it?" Calla frowned, setting her needles aside as she rose from her seat to take a look. A wave of shock washed over her at what she found. "Oh my goodness…"

There in front of the door sat a sat of many gold coins and a skillfully crafted wooden toy knight.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Ciao, Ragazzi! I am _very_ sorry that it took a long time to get this chapter up, but no worries because it's here now. I promise to try and do more frequent updates. I also just wanted to say THANK YOU for all of the wonderful reviews. They have really made me happy and I'm glad you're all enjoying the story. To answer the question **Minelava** had: Of course you'll get to see Snow, Elias, Root, Stanton, and others as well. Hope you all enjoy.

Chapter Three

_He was wasting his life away, somewhere in the village_ _John sat alone as the people around him passed by. Most went on without noticing him but every once in a while someone would stop and hand him a copper piece or two. _

_John couldn't bring himself to understand why these people were even giving their money to someone like him, pity perhaps?_

_He couldn't remember where he was or how he had gotten there, but none of that seemed to matter. His clothes were old and tattered, caked with sweat and dirt from days of going unwashed as he treading ground. In the same condition, his brown cloak wrapped around his, the hood hiding his grimy, unshaven face._

_He sat there with dim eyes, an almost depleted bottle of ale at his side as his mind drifted off into a dark place that he wasn't sure he could ever come back from. Everything he cared about was lost to him. Betrayed and lied to, he drowned himself in liquid poison and tried to forget the days that could never be forgotten. _

_He made himself believe that the darkness is where a monster like him belonged._

_._

_._

_._

_He first met her in this darkness and with her came the feeling of the tinniest bit of something he thought was lost to him forever…_

_Hope._

_A few men had tried to start up trouble with him that day. Thoughts clouded with too much to drink; the trio thought it would have been funny to play keep away with his ale. Of course, John had no choice but to teach them a lesson and punched one of them in the face. His friends didn't seem to appreciate that very much and retaliated. Being a bit drunk himself, John took too hits to his abdomen and tripped over an old crate. She and her knights were passing by and, not seeing how things had started, assumed he had been pushed. He didn't bother correcting their mistake._

_As the knights shackled the troublemakers, John was helped up by a woman who carried herself in such a way that one could just tell she was someone important. She had flawless mahogany skin, long black tresses, a proud stature, and brown eyes that could speak volumes.—Though of course the royal attire was a giveaway to her position too._

_Princess Jocelyn Carter._

_Even back then she asked too many questions and he had told her nothing that would help her curiosity shrink. It took a bit for her to get the hint he wouldn't say much, but eventually she gave up and excused herself. To his surprise, before she walked away she slipped something into his hand and said: "Don't starve yourself to death."_

_He watched her leave, still holding on to the small leather pouch of coins she had given him with an intricate "J" sown into it._

_And to his luck, she wasn't the only one who changed him._

_It wasn't long after their encounter that he met a Mr. Harold Finch. _

"_I don't think you need a doctor or medicine, magic."_

"_What do I need?"_

"_You need a purpose."_

_At first he thought the man's offer was ridiculous and he hadn't wanted anything to do with it._

_John walked away that day, annoyed and disinterested, but the man in the glasses was persistent and wouldn't stop until he agreed to help him. _

"_I think all you've ever wanted to do is protect people."_

"_You're not Monarchy?"_

"_No, I'm not. You couldn't have saved this woman or your friend, but I'm offering you a chance to be there in time, you can help me stop what's about to happen, before it happens, the question is will you?"_

_This man gave him a purpose, a job, and changed his life. _

That was less than a year ago.

His life had improved since then, his mind was clearer and there were day he found himself smiling… but there were still some times he found himself alone, questioning his existence.

Now, however, was not the time for that.

Standing in the forest, black stallion by his side, John ran a hand down the animal's black fur and fed it an apple. Causally, he took a bite himself and listened as the sound of hooves pounding against the forest floor alerted him someone was coming his way.

Giving the rest of the apple to his horse, John turned to face the newcomer and his stead, nodding slightly in acknowledgement. Harold Finch was not the only man that the man in the black hood had come to know. John needed eyes on the inside, someone with connections that even Finch would have a hard times getting… and that is where this man came in. If it wasn't for him, John wouldn't have been seated so close to the Princess at Gracious' knighting celebration.

Mirroring the gesture, a stout man climbed off the back of his horse and grunted, "You'll have to make this quick, I'm late for Tinkerbell's lessons."

Understanding his situation, John got straight to the point "I was only able to delay the attack. We need to find out what he's up to and catch him before he gets to her again."

"You got a plan?"

He shrugged with a light smirk, "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve." He paused, wiping his hands of the last of the apple. "When you can I need you to see if you can dig up any information on Gracious." climbing up on to his black stead, he prepared to leave.

"And what are you going to do?" The stout man questioned as he mounted his horse as well.

"The same thing you are, Fusco. I'm going to get some answers."

xXx

Jocelyn aimed her bow and arrow across the field at an old wooden target. Pulling the string taunt, she took a deep breath and released. The arrow sailed through the air and hit the bull's eye dead on, a pleased smirk finding its way onto the princess' face.

The smirk dimmed, however, when she glanced at the sun. She had been waiting for Fusco for a while now, he was late for their session. It made her feel irritated and worried at the same time. Had something happened to him?

She retrieved another arrow and aimed it at the target again. This time when she released the shot was a little off but she still managed to split the first arrow. It was a trick Fusco taught her that she was still working on.

The sudden sound of clapping made Jocelyn turn around swiftly, bringing her face to face with the person who interrupted her focus.

"Excellent shot your Highness, but may I recommend shifting your stance just a bit? I could show you if you'd like."

Jocelyn frowned at the sight of Sir Gracious and his unwelcomed presence. He seemed be making it a habit to show up where he wasn't wanted. "Why are you here?"

Gracious moved a little close to her "Your Father sent me to look after you until Sir Fusco returns," He paused and looked around the open field. "Where ever he is. . . "

She watched him closely, thinking back to what that mysterious man said and the incident at the celebration. Jocelyn made sure to keep her distance, "Well you can leave, I don't want you here."

A look of mock hurt played across Gracious' face as he placed a hand over his heart. "Those are harmful words, Princess. All I am doing is following orders. I'm here to protect you"

"Well excuse me for finding that hard to believe." Jocelyn knew he wasn't going to try anything, there were too many guards on standby just out of earshot.

"Now, now my sweet Jocelyn, It would be against my code of chivalry if I were to hurt you. I would never hurt someone so important to the kingdom." Gracious began to slowly step toward her. Taking a step in the other direction, Jocelyn pointed her bow at him, ready to shoot.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you Princess, If you harm me, then you'll never know where your son is." He smiled coyly, his voice casual.

Jocelyn froze, her brow furrowed in confusion at the mention about her son. Her fingers slipped from the string, the arrow leaving the bow and flying past Gracious into a tree behind him giving him a bit of a scare. "What are you talking about?"

A distance away, John looked through his silver hand mirror, watching the exchange between Gracious and the princess. What he saw further confirmed that Gracious was up to no good.

He kept himself hidden in the forest that surrounded the large field. Just being near the castle was always a big risk so appearing out of nowhere to get Gracious away from the princess wasn't a bright idea. Especially since he and the royal guards weren't the best of friends.

Fortunately for him Fusco arrived just in time.

"Is there a problem here?" Fusco made his way toward the two, not liking the look that slightly marred Jocelyn's face. It was one of pure shock and confusion.

"Why of course not, I was just giving a few tips to her Highness." Gracious chuckled, holding his hands up in mock innocence. "Well, now that you have returned I shall take my leave." He smiled and turned his attention back to Jocelyn taking her hand in his to kiss her knuckles, making sure to keep eye contact. "Until we meet again."

They both watched him walk away until he disappeared into the castle. Exhaling, Fusco turned to Jocelyn who was still looking in the direction Gracious had gone off to. "Hey, you all right?"

Blinking, Jocelyn snapped out of her thoughts. "Yeah, I'm fine." She took a deep breath to calm herself before grabbing another arrow from her leather arrow quiver. "You're late, what took you so long?"

"Yeah I know something came up and I had to take care of it."

Jocelyn nodded in understanding, "So, what are you teaching me today?" she said trying to change the uncomfortable atmosphere.

Staring at her pointedly, the knight pursed his lips. Fusco knew something was wrong but he decided to ask her about it after the lesson and give her a bit of time to gather herself. Scoffing, he pointed to her bow. "First of all, how many times do I have to tell you the correct way to shoot someone in the leg?"

xXx

"_Mama, Mama! I's caught it!"_

_Jocelyn looked up from her spot on the stone bench, set down the book she was reading and smiled at the little four year old boy with curly hair as he ran toward her with his small hands clasped together. "What is it, Taylor? What did you catch?"_

_Taylor opened up his hand just a little bit and Joss could see the wings of a monarch butterfly. "It's a booterfly." _

_Jocelyn chuckled at her son's mispronunciation; she found it to be adorable "It's pronounced Butterfly, sweetie." _

"_That what I said, Mama. Booterfly." _

"_Okay, just be careful with it. You can hold it for a little while longer but you'll have to let it go."_

"_Aww, but why Mama?" the little boy pouted _

"_Well, you wouldn't want to be trapped forever would you?"_

_Taylor thought for a second before shaking his head "No that's bad, 'sides I won' get to sees you anymores"_

"_Yes that would be bad and I wouldn't want you to be trapped either. Do you want to know why?"_

_He tilted his head to the side and looked at her with curious eyes "Why?"_

"_Because I love you so much." Jocelyn chuckled and started tickling his sides._

_Taylor tried to talk between fits of giggles "Okay, okay. I's let it go, I's let it go!" _

_Jocelyn stopped her playful attack and allowed him to release the butterfly. They watched it flutter off and land on a nearby bushel of flowers._

_Taylor suddenly turned back to his mother and wrapped his small arms around her waist the best he could, "I love you too, Mama." _

Jocelyn sat at her vanity dressed in her night gown while Grace brushed her hair. She hadn't realized that she had been staring at her reflection until Grace's poetic voice broke the silence.

"If you stare at it like that any longer you might burn a hole through it." Grace set the brush down on the vanity and looked at Jocelyn through the mirror. "You look exhausted."

Jocelyn smiled weakly, "That's because I am."

Grace, tilted her head thoughtfully, it was easy for her to see that Jocelyn wasn't tired, she was conflicted. She decided the best thing to do was to get the princess to sleep. "Come on, from what I can see you've had a long day and you need to rest—a lot of it."

Jocelyn didn't argue, and got up from her spot at the vanity to climb into bed. "Good night, Grace."

"Goodnight." Grace blew out the candles around the room before taking her leave and gently closing the door behind her.

Twenty minutes had passed and Jocelyn found herself having trouble going to sleep. Her mind was running a mile a minute and she just couldn't relax but then again who could relax after someone telling you they knew where your lost child was? She knew there was a very slim chance that he was going to tell her anything… and for all she knew he could have been lying. She needed to figure out what she was going to do before things got any worse.

Jocelyn sat up in bed and decided that she needed to get some fresh air and clear her head. She threw her covers off and got up out of bed. Going over to her large wardrobe, she pulled out an old tattered cloak and put it on along with a pair of old boots.

Quietly, she slipped out onto her balcony and kneeled down so the patrolling guards wouldn't see her. Waiting until they passed, she carefully climbed over the side of the balcony and grabbed a hold of the trellis going down the side of the wall, using it as a ladder. Once her feet touched the ground she had to stay low and out of sight until she reached the woods.

"_Twinkle, twinkle, little star,  
How I wonder what you are!  
Up above the world so high,  
Like a diamond in the sky!_

_When the blazing sun is gone,  
When he nothing shines upon,  
Then you show your little light,  
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night._

_Then the traveler in the dark,  
Thanks you for your tiny spark,  
He could not see which way to go,  
If you did not twinkle so._

_In the dark blue sky you keep,  
And often through my curtains peep,  
For you never shut your eye,  
Till the sun is in the sky._

_As your bright and tiny spark,  
Lights the traveler in the dark,-  
Though I know not what you are,  
Twinkle, twinkle, little star."_

_Jocelyn sang to her son like he asked her to do almost every night. She could tell that he was getting tired by the way his eye lids kept shutting but he tried to fight it. _

"_Mama, can I ask you a question?" Taylor's voice was hush and his tired eyes were locked with hers._

"_Of course you can." She soothingly ran her fingers through his hair. _

"_Did Papa ever love me?"_

"_. . . Of course he did, why do you ask?"_

"'_cause I never got to see him before." _

"_Hold on I'll be right back." Jocelyn got up from the bed and walked over to her son's wardrobe. Reaching up on the top shelf, she grabbed a small box and returned to her spot on the bed. "I was going to wait until you were older, but I want you to have it now." She opened the box and pulled out a small round gold object with a chain attached to it and placed it in his small hands. _

"_What is it?" His little fingers traced the intricately engraved "T" on top._

"_It's a compass. Before you were born your father had this made for you as a welcome to the world gift, but he never got the chance to give it to you himself."_

"'_cause of the war, right Mama? That's what grandpa told me."_

_She nodded and her eyes filled with unshed tear, but she dare not let them fall. Instead she replaced her sad look with a soft smile "Yeah, that's right. You know it's enchanted, so whenever you're lost it'll always bring you home, right back tome."_

_Taylor scooted closer to her finally letting sleep take over. Jocelyn stayed with him a little longer, lightly running her fingers through his hair. _

After traveling her usual route she took when wanting to get away from the castle for a while she found herself standing outside an old tavern that seemed to be open late at night. Jocelyn made sure the hood of her tattered cloak was up and she kept her head down so no one would recognize her.

She walked inside and took a seat at a table in the very back. The tavern waitress took her order and it wasn't long before the waitress came back with a small mug of ale and left, leaving Jocelyn by herself as her mind once again filled with past memories.

_The sound of loud thunder had jolted her from her peaceful slumber. Jocelyn sighed deeply and settled back down onto her bed, ready to go back to sleep. However her eyes snapped back open when she heard a cry for help, it was faint because of the stone walls but it was there. She then heard multiple footsteps run pass her door along with people shouting. What was going on? _

_Jocelyn quickly got out of bed, opening her door and pearling out into the hallway, she felt her heart drop. Royal guards and knights where running in the direction of Taylor room. Instantly, she followed. _

_It took her mere seconds to get there but what she saw terrified her. The guards as well as Szymanski and Fuso had their crossbows aimed at a masked intruder who had Taylor in his arms with a dagger at his throat. _

"_Let the prince go." Szymanski ordered._

_The masked intruder laughed "Or what you'll shoot me? If you shoot me he dies." _

_Jocelyn knew she needed to stay calm but that was starting to become difficult knowing that her son could be taken away from her at any moment. "Please, let him go he's just a little boy you don't want to hurt him."_

_He pressed the dagger closer to Taylor's throat causing him to whimper "And what makes you think I don't?" The man's voice was deep and threatening._

_Fusco looked at Jocelyn from the corner of his eye "You shouldn't be here it's too dangerous you need to leave."_

_His request fell on death ears as Jocelyn ignored him her attention still on the intruder "Why are you doing this?"_

"_Why? Because you took something that was precious to me, now I'm taking what's precious to you."_

"_Szymanski get her out of here!" Fusco didn't want here to be here if something went wrong. _

_Szymanski tried to grab onto Jocelyn's arm and pull her out of the room but she just yanked her arm out of his grasp._

"_No! I'm not going anywhere." She was just getting mad now, frustrated even. What did this man mean? "I don't know what you're talking about, just let, my son, go." _

"_You don't remember? Well then that's too bad." Before anyone could stop him he disappeared in red smoke, crossbows were fired but missed and the last thing she heard was Taylor screaming for her. _

"_Mama!"_

The sound of her son's terrified voice echoed throughout her mind, the memory haunted her. She had always told herself that Taylor was still alive and would come back to her someday. Now that there was a chance that he really could be alive and that made her even more determined to find him.

"Hello, Princess."

Jocelyn's thoughts were interrupted by a man in a black cloak sitting down across from her. She blinked in surprise.

That voice, that face, and those blue eyes were all too familiar; she was shocked that he was even here. "You're that nobleman from the celebration." Her brow furrowed realizing that he had just called her by her title. Her eyes scanned the tavern making sure no one over heard him, her gaze locked back with his. How did he find her? "Are you following me?"

He ignored her question and leaned forward "I know what's going on, and I can help you if you'll let me, but I need your help in return."

xXx

Gracious walked cautiously through the dark woods his only light source being the moon. Occasionally he would look behind him to make sure he wasn't being followed. He knew his superior would be upset with him for not getting rid of the threat to their plan that was the princess, but no worries; If getting someone to kill her was going to be difficult then perhaps he'll use a different tactic and get his use out of her, then kill her. He would reassure him that everything was under control and that he had nothing to worry about.

It wasn't long before he reached his destination in the woods where three men stood in the darkness.

The leader of the three stepped forward, "I was beginning to think that you weren't going to show up."

"I had some things to take care of."

"Did you get rid of her?"

"No, the mercenaries failed to assassinate her, but I've come up with a plan." He grinned, "Don't worry, everything is under control."

The leader stared at him long and hard through his spectacles "You better, Nephew. I would hate to see one of my favorites disposed of. "

"You have my word, Uncle Elias."


End file.
